The Problem with Puppies
by joudama
Summary: In which Nibelheim never happens, because Zack is a puppy, and the problem with puppies is that puppies try to eat EVERYTHING.
1. The Problem with Puppies

**Title:** The Problem with Puppies

**Author:** joudama

**Fandom:** Final Fantasy VII

**Rating:** G

**Warnings:** Crackilicious! Also, AU. JUST BECAUSE. YAY CANON GETTING FUCKED. XD Also, this contains bodily fluids, but _not_ the happy fun kind. XDDDD

**Word count:** 1,313

**Summary:** The problem with puppies is that they eat, well, _everything_.

**A/N:** Birthday fic for chibirisuchan!

**Prompt:** Sephiroth finding out there is more than one reason why Angeal calls Zack a puppy.

--

It was bad enough that the trooper in the transport vehicle was looking decidedly green around the gills. That had been bad but somewhat expected; Sephiroth had seen troopers getting motion sick, even though he himself had no frame of reference for it.

So he kept an eye on the trooper, prepared to call for the driver to pull the transport vehicle over should the little blond trooper seem to get worse. And since he was watching the trooper, he was quite shocked when the one who threw up on his boots was not the trooper but SOLDIER 1st class, Zack Fair.

Up until about ten minutes before, Lt. Fair had seemed fine. More than fine, in fact--he had showed himself to have his usual exuberance, all but _wriggling_ with excitement. This had come rather suddenly. Rather _disturbingly _suddenly.

Zack leaned back, eyes shut and looking decidedly unwell, and like only force of will was keeping him from being ill again.

"Sorry...sorry 'bout the boots," he whimpered, one hand clutching his stomach and the other over his mouth. The non-carsick trooper looked at the mess and heaved a sigh, and began searching the truck for something to clean with. The other one stayed right where he was, eyes screwed tight and looking like he was counting.

"Oh, man, it musta been something I ate," Zack moaned. "But I didn't have anything, other than breakfast from the mess and that a triple bacon cheeseburger set from McMoogles. Oh, and that jerky Reno gave me before I realized I had time for McMoogles...and that stuff from that weirdo scientist...I mean, OK, it was kinda weird looking and I don't think that green was natural, but it _smelled_ OK..."

"Wait, you ate _what_ from _who_?" Sephiroth said, completely disbelieving. The rivalry between the Turks and the SOLDIERs was well known, and most people, SOLIDER or otherwise, knew better than to take anything offered to them by a Turk, especially the red-haired prankster they had running around. And god only knew what scientist it had been. Sephiroth had heard a rumor that Professor Hojo had been around, and that had been enough reason for him to want to head out to Nibelheim as quickly as possible.

"It looked OK! The jerky and the sandwich! And I was really, really, hungry!" Zack said, his voice a whine and lower lip sticking out in a way Sephiroth was all too familiar with thanks to Genesis, before Zack suddenly clutched his stomach again and turned even greener.

He was suddenly reminded of something he had overheard one of the secretaries say once--she had a new puppy, and "The problem with puppies is that puppies try to eat _everything_." In that case, her puppy had eaten a pair of new shoelaces she had left on her coffee table, and had promptly spent the rest of the day throwing up and eventually requiring a trip to the veterinarian.

Angeal had always said that Zack was just like a puppy; Sephiroth hadn't anticipated that Angeal had been being _literal_.

He closed his eyes, letting out a sigh as he wondered why Angeal was gone...gone and had left him with his puppy who threw up on Sephiroth's boots.

A puppy that was currently looking completely unSOLDIER-like and frankly pathetic, clutching his midsection and looking at Sephiroth with wide blue eyes, as if he expected Sephiroth to be able to make his stomach cease trying to expel its contents.

"There's nothing I can do," Sephiroth said, not at all sure why he felt like he should apologize. "A Cure won't heal illness and Remedy only works on poisons...but not of the food poisoning variety."

Zack groaned. "Aww, man...and that Turk said they were safe! And after that weird 'endurance experiment' that nut job professor had be do last time he was here, I should have known not to trust him, either. I'm never trusting a Turk that's not Cissnei or anybody in a lab coat _ever again_."

"That's probably a _very_ wise course of action," Sephiroth said mildly. "And are you quite all right?!" he said suddenly, his eyes getting wide as he noticed the status of his support SOLDIER.

"...Noooooo," the puppy in the shape of a SOLDIER moaned. "Sephir_ohshit_, you've gotta stop the truck...stop the truck...stop the--!"

And that was as far as he got before Zack bolted. SOLDIERs could move pretty fast, but the problem was that their stomachs could apparently move faster.

After Zack finished throwing up again, he managed to stumble back over to a horrified Sephiroth. Zack sank down, moaning "I hate my life..." and then buried his face in Sephiroth's lap and whimpered pathetically. "Please, please put me out of my misery..."

"I can't put you out of your misery yet. We have a mission. But afterwards, I'll take you up on that," Sephiroth said dryly. He wasn't quite sure what exactly to do about having a rather sick Lt. Fair whimpering in his lap, but he was quite sure the...normal...protocol for a sick puppy--or puppy of any sort, for that matter--was to pat it. Or something like that. So he rather awkwardly patted Zack's head, all the while looking for the troopers to kindly assist him with some kind of clue. Instead of a clue, however, he noted with growing horror that Zack did not seem to be the only one hating his life. One trooper was looking at what had been the contents of Zack's ill-begotten lunch and was gagging. And more worrisome, the little blond trooper, the one who had been fighting motion sickness, apparently could not fight both motion sickness and the smell of vomit; he ripped off his helmet and got as far as the back of the truck before he doubled over and threw up, not far at all from where Zack had lost his own battle with his belly.

"That's it," Sephiroth said, burying his face in his palm as the other trooper began losing his fight with nausea, turning a sickly green color and making pre-vomiting noises. He banged on the transport wall separating the four of them from their driver. The driver opened the window and let out a disgusted and creative invocation of Shiva before he choked and rolled down his window. "Turn us around," Sephiroth said, quickly breathing in the fresh air.

The next thing he heard was the sound of the second trooper losing his battle with his stomach, and the contents of his stomach being forcefully ejected onto the floor. And then Zack bolted again for what was quickly becoming the "vomit-only" section of the transport vehicle, as the battle with whatever he had ingested ended in a way most unbefitting of a SOLDIER 1st class.

Again.

Sephiroth gingerly took off his befouled boots and then crawled through the open window into the front, relishing the relatively clean air. "Turn us around, and get us back to Midgar _as fast as you can_. I am scrubbing this mission on account of...that," he said, gesturing to the back where once again, someone back there was throwing up. The driver was starting to look rather green himself, and Sephiroth felt a headache setting in. "Midgar or whatever city, town, village, cave, whatever, that will have a veterinarian, doctor..._something_."

...Whatever was in Nibelheim, it would _keep_. He had refused missions before; someone _else_ could go this time.

That, or ShinRa was going to have to provide him with support that _didn't_, from the sound of things,projectile vomit.

"Uuuuuuuuuuwaaaaaaaaaaaaah...I wanna go hooooome..." Zack whimpered from the back, curling up in the seat Sephiroth had been sitting in before he had fled and making more whimpering noises.

Sephiroth reached back and carefully patted Zack's head again, and the whimpers faded into pouting sniffles.

...Yes. Support that didn't projectile vomit. And which weren't human puppies, either.


	2. Pavlov's Dog

**Title:** Pavlov's Dog**  
****Warnings:** Bodily fluids, and _not_ of the happy fun kind.**  
Summary:** In which Sephiroth develops something of a conditioned response.

--

Sephiroth was quite certain a Leviathan summons had never before been used to wash down a vomit-filled transport vehicle, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

...That said, he had never seen a Leviathan with the expression on its face that that one had had. It was oddly similar to the one the driver had had a few minutes prior, when he muttered his pay was insufficient.

Not long after Sephiroth had climbed through the window to get to the front seat, the driver of the transport vehicle pulled over to let everyone out to finish emptying the contents of their stomach off to the side instead of inside the vehicle.

"That is absolutely disgusting," the driver said conversationally as he and Sephiroth stared into the back of the transport vehicle.

"You will receive no arguments from me on that," Sephiroth said, wrinkling his nose at the smell. He sighed. "Please assist me in removing the supplies so we can clean the back."

"...ShinRa doesn't pay me enough for this," the man muttered under his breath, but rolled up his sleeves and took a deep breath before climbing into the back. It didn't take them long, thankfully, to get the back emptied out, and that was when Sephiroth summoned Leviathan.

Once Leviathan had blasted water into the interior and washed it clean, a Firaga quickly dried it out. Which left cleaning off the supplies, a wholly unpleasant but necessary undertaking. He briefly considered making the three who had caused the mess clean it, but one look at them removed that thought from his head. Lt. Fair was sitting on the ground looking miserable, with the little blond trooper leaning on him with his eyes shut. Truthfully, it looked rather like the two of them were propping each other up, and if one moved the other would tumble over to the side. The other trooper was looking much healthier than his blond counterpart, as if the fresh air had been enough. He was also sitting a healthy distance away from Lt. Fair and the other trooper, looking at them somewhat disgustedly. Seeing as he had also added to the mess in the back, Sephiroth didn't think that was exactly called for.

"Sorry, Sephiroth," Zack had mumbled at one point while Sephiroth and the driver were cleaning boxes, his eyes very large and looking both pathetic and apologetic at the same time. "I can try to help..." he started, and then swallowed thickly, looking greenish.

"Please don't," Sephiroth said quickly. Zack made a whimpering sound again, and Sephiroth blinked, then walked over and patted Lt. Fair's head, since that had stopped the whimpering when they were moving. It worked again now, so he patted the lieutenant's head again and then went back to scrubbing off the last of the supply boxes, ignoring the snickering driver.

Finally, everything was relatively cleaned off. With all of its buckles and crevices, Sephiroth considered his boots a lost cause, and his coat likewise had gotten stained; both he discarded and put into a bag to be sent for cleaning. He had a spare uniform, but was left barefoot because he had only brought the single pair of boots. There was nothing to be done about it, however. The alternative was simply unacceptable. Even his socks were gone; walking around only in them would ruin one pair and the pair he had been wearing had been rendered unwearable.

"Where to, sir?" the driver asked. "I don't think they'll make it all the way home."

Sephiroth looked over at Lt. Fair and the blond trooper. "The nearest town with a doctor," he said with a sigh.

"That'd be...Urtharbrun," the man said, taking a moment to figure the nearest place. "About thirty kilometers from here, I think. Maybe more. I'd have to double-check my map."

"Please do and then take us there," Sephiroth said, feeling tired. He had to call ShinRa, he realized, and let them know of this delay. Or rather, this cancellation--he doubted very seriously that, with as green as Fair was, that the man would be in any shape to assist Sephiroth at all.

...he definitely would not be; the man was throwing up again. Sephiroth wondered just how much the man had _eaten_, to still have something in his stomach to be throwing up.

"I wanna die," Fair moaned faintly. The little blond cadet, the one who had been ill before, was patting the lieutenant on the back in what Sephiroth assumed was a soothing manner, and Lt. Fair immediately took advantage of this, whimpering pathetically then dropping his head on the boy's shoulder and shutting his eyes.

Fair was looking decidedly _less_ than useful.

The little blond trooper dropped his head on top of Fair's and shut his eyes, looking equally as pathetic, and Sephiroth felt the beginnings of a headache. The trooper was looking better now, but as soon as they set out again...

It was time to end this mission. Sephiroth understood that there were times missions had to be scrubbed, and these circumstances most decidedly called for it.

Sephiroth walked slightly away from them as he dialed, watching the ground. He was not thrilled with having to walk around barefoot--while doubtful a stray pebble would cut him, they would scarcely feel pleasant, and the gods only knew what he might accidentally tread on out here in the middle of nowhere. He was far too used to Wutai, where it was simply dangerous to walk around barefoot in some places. Only a fool with a death wish would wander the Great Forest of Chochung or the wooded areas of Taishang and Beizhou barefoot. Sephiroth's first introduction to the outdoors had been Wutai--where merely touching a brightly-colored amphibian could put one in a coma--and it left him wholly distrustful of the outdoors and most of the flora and fauna within it. And since most of his life he had only known the sterile floors of the labs, the feel of bare dirt and the unhygienicness of it made him vaguely uncomfortable.

Sephiroth was glad for his direct line to his superiors, but less than thrilled with the new superior he had a direct line _to_. Heidigger was...less than satisfactory, especially when compared to Lazard. Lazard may have been young and ambitious, but he hadn't been a _fool_. The same could not, unfortunately, be said for Heidigger. When Lazard went missing, then was declared dead, Heidigger, who had been jockeying for more power anyway, had made his move and had the SOLDIER department absorbed into his own.

Sephiroth didn't buy for one instant that Lazard had died in the line of duty. There were too many "combat deaths," after all, of people who were either still alive or who had died in combat battling only their former comrades sent to make the truth of a lie.

There was a sudden, unexpected pain of sorts in his chest at that, one he didn't understand and made his finger pause before he pushed the last number. Sephiroth had had few friends, and all of them had been 'combat deaths', he supposed that perplexing feeling of being struck at the thought of what ShinRa had done was proof, of a sorts, that he wasn't quite as cut off from the rest of humanity as he thought.

He brushed his thoughts aside and held the phone up to his ear.

This was not going to be pleasant.

--

It had not been pleasant, and the fact that the phone call was still going, with Heidigger insisting that Sephiroth turn around, despite all of Sephiroth's explanations--for the last twenty minutes--that it was impossible, was making it _continue_ to not be pleasant.

Sephiroth finally just repeated he was scrubbing the mission then hung up on the man and headed back to the transport vehicle and his troops. Quite honestly, he no longer cared. The worst ShinRa could do to him was kill him, and since he already knew they planned to do that one day, if that day came sooner rather than later, at least it would finally have _come_, instead of hovering over him.

They could also try to force him back into the labs, he realized, but the day they tried to do that would be the day they died. He would blow the planet apart before he went back to Hojo's laboratory.

"Ready to go, sir?" the driver asked.

"Yes," Sephiroth said shortly. "To...Urtharbrun, was it?"

"Yes sir. I looked up the quickest way there," he said, shooting a glance at Lt. Fair and the trooper doubling as his prop. The blond trooper was looking better, but Fair looked terrible. The trooper seemed to be trying to coax Fair to drink something. Fair probably needed fluids, as much as he had been vomiting, and hopefully some water would help him from getting dehydrated.

"Are you sitting in the front or the back, sir?"

Sephiroth looked at his support troops, and fought the urge to rub his temples. "I should be in the back with them," he said, not looking forward to.

"You're a braver man than I, sir," the driver muttered, and climbed into the front while Sephiroth helped load Fair into the back. He stuck the blond trooper in the front, figuring that was best for motion sickness, and the other trooper scrambled for a place as far away from Zack as possible. Which left Sephiroth with Zack by the back, and him filling in for the blond trooper as "Zack propper-upper." Until Zack gave up and laid down, curled into a fetal position, with his head on Sephiroth's lap with a whimper, leaving Sephiroth blinking repeatedly before he gave up and went back to patting the boy's head.

They had only been driving about five minutes before Sephiroth's PHS rang.

"Yes," he said shortly after seeing the number. Heidigger.

"I trust you are on your way to Nibelheim," he said shortly.

There was a long pause before Sephiroth spoke. "As I stated, the mission has been scrubbed."

"ShinRa needs those monsters taken care of so the reactor will be safe, General. A little motion sickness is not something to cancel a mission for!"

"It is not 'a little motion sickness'," Sephiroth said flatly, eying Fair. While true of the blond trooper, who even in the front had started turning greenish again, and perhaps was true of the other trooper, who still looked miserable, it was most decidedly _not_ true of the lieutenant, who was now making rather strange faces and, unless Sephiroth was mistaken, was beginning to run a fever. "This mission has been scrubbed and we are currently en route to Urtharbrun."

"Your mission is in Nibelheim! If your motion-sick underlings are still sick when you get to Nibelheim, you can seek treatment for them then while you complete the mission. _Those_ are your orders!"

In his mind, Sephiroth felt something kind of _snap_, and for once he sort of understood Genesis' rages.

"I am _not_," he said flatly, "turning around and going to Nibelheim. Last I checked, I was a _general _and therefore had authority to scrub failed missions, and this mission is a failure before it has begun. All _three_ of my support members have been violently ill and _I have no boots_. I am _not_ going to fight unknown monsters barefoot and holding back the hair of my troops as they vomit upon me. _Nor_ am I seeing to the mission alone if it was deemed necessary from the start to send myself and another SOLDIER 1st class plus support troopers. If this in such an important mission, then I advise a _new contingent_ be sent out immediately, because I officially _abort _this mission and _my_ contingent is returning to Midgar once a doctor has cleared Lt. Fair for transport from Urtharbrun," he said, and hung up.

The phone immediately rang again and Sephiroth felt his eye twitch. It was a rather odd sensation.

Zack rolled over so he was on his back and blinked up at him slowly. "Aren't...aren't you going to answer that?" he said, his voice hesitant.

Sephiroth smiled tightly. "Yes. Yes, I suppose I should. Only my PHS," he said, deciding that perhaps Genesis and his irrationality actually _had _been on to something and snapping the PHS in half, "seems to have met with a small accident, which has unfortunately rendered it completely inoperative."

Zack grinned and whooped, then turned green again and curled up again on his side. "I shouldn't've moved," he moaned, shutting his eyes.

Then he jumped up and threw up over the side of the tail gate.

_Again._

And in the front, the little blond trooper shut his eyes shut and started counting slowly.

--

By the time they got to Urtharbrun, the relatively non-ill trooper was looking ill again, the truck needed another Leviathan summons, Sephiroth's pants and spare coat were about to join his other coat and boots in a plastic bag, and Zack Fair was feverish and looking dangerously pale--he'd finally run out of things to throw up, and that included the water he'd drunk, and had made them pull over once so he could run out and do...something. Sephiroth didn't want to know, but he suspected, judging by how Fair had all but taken off in a stumbling running for the woods by the side of the road, that the poor lieutenant was, as some of his troops had colorfully put it during the beginning of the Wutai campaigns when the water was having adverse effect, "running at both ends."

The blond trooper had also thrown up another time, this time giving them enough warning so the driver could pull over and the boy could rush out. The two of them were in terrible shape. The third trooper was holding up, but looked like he'd give anything to resign his commission right then and there.

As soon as they got into the small town, the driver flagged someone down by the large fountain in the middle of the town square and asked where the nearest doctor was.

"Right down that road, three doors away from the Inn. You can't miss Dr. Dellinger's office," the young woman said, giving the driver directions and a smile, then an offer to show them.

"Trust me, ma'am," the driver said, and Sephiroth could hear the grim laugh in the man's voice, "You do NOT want to be in this truck right now. Thank you!" he said, and took off down the road as soon as the young woman had stepped away from the truck.

The drive to the doctor only took a few minutes, but it was enough time for Lt. Fair to begin retching again.

"Found it!" the driver yelled, and the non-blond trooper practically bolted for the exit while Sephiroth gently but quickly moved Zack's head off his lap and got the man upright. The blond trooper wasn't moving, keeping his eyes shut and counting again, and Zack had immediately listed over until he was leaning against the side--the two times the young man had gone running for the woods had taken too much out of him, and Sephiroth suspected they wouldn't be going anywhere anytime soon.

When he found out who--Hojo or Reno, based on what the lieutenant had said--had caused this, he was going to take great pleasure in making _them_ ingest whatever they had given Fair.

He found himself _sincerely_ hoping it was Hojo.

"Can you come out unassisted?" he asked. Zack held his stomach and made a faint whimpering noise, which Sephiroth supposed was an attempt at an answer.

"You two," Sephiroth said to the driver and upright trooper, "alert the town medic to the situation. I will handle the lieutenant," he said grimly. The two nodded, doubtlessly grateful it was not _their_ job, and went inside while Sephiroth helped Zack out. Zack immediately leaned against him and shut his eyes tightly.

"I think I'm gonna hurl again, but there's nothing left," he whimpered pathetically, and Sephiroth sighed.

"Just a bit longer, lieutenant. We're getting you into a medical facility now."

"Thank Odin," the boy whimpered, and dropped his head pathetically on Sephiroth's shoulder, and between Sephiroth and the little blond trooper--C. Strife, his name tag said--who was half propping Zack up and half using Zack to keep himself steady.

Fair's eyes suddenly went wide. "Bathroom! Now, oh shit, _now_, _bathroom_!" he let out in a panic, and the young trooper shot Sephiroth a terrified look before they hurried their steps and got Zack _inside _so fast Sephiroth almost thought they'd been Hasted.

--

"The younger one, Cloud, is just motion sickness. He'll be all right once his stomach settles, and I'll prescribe something that should help prevent a repeat of this on the way home for you fellows," the doctor, an older man with short brown hair and a greying beard said, and pushed his glasses up. While the doctor was examining Fair and the trooper, Strife, Sephiroth had sent the driver off to make arrangements at the Inn and the other trooper, Abersbaugh, to find a place to get Sephiroth's uniform laundered and boots cleaned while Sephiroth, still barefoot, and therefore unable to go anywhere, had waited at the doctor's.

"As for the other one, Zack, well, it's definitely food poisoning of some sort," Dr. Dellinger continued, shaking his head faintly. "I have no idea _what_ he ate, but whatever it was, he _shouldn't_ have, and his body is overreacting trying to get it all out," the doctor said, pursing his lips and Sephiroth knew his assumption of 'running at both ends' seemed to be correct. "If he can't keep down the water I gave him, I'll put him on an IV, since dehydration is the biggest concern. I'd also definitely like to keep him here overnight, and at least in town for two or three days to be on the safe side."

"Understood," Sephiroth said, nodding. "Is there a phone that I might use? I need to report in, and I'm afraid my portable phone is inoperable," he said. "I will reimburse you for the charges."

"You can use the one right down the hall, that's fine," Dellinger said, nodding. He looked down. "...I also have a pair of slippers if you'd like to use those for a while."

Sephiroth had almost forgotten his bare feet. "Thank you," he said. "But this is a temporary situation. I will have one of my men pick up shoes for me while mine are being cleaned."

"...Rough trip up, eh?" Dellinger said with a grin.

"Very," Sephiroth said, giving the doctor a faint, wry smile, and padded down the hallway towards the front and a phone.

--

"I do not understand why this is becoming difficult. It is standard for a mission to be scrubbed if it can not be completed. I can not complete this mission. Right now, it is impossible to complete this mission. The doctor here wants to keep Lt. Fair for two or three days. It is not 'motion sickness.' My officer has food poisoning of some sort and --"

"Oh, gods, vomit's not supposed to come out of your _nose_! Eugh!" Sephiroth heard Zack wail from the room the doctor had put him in.

"--and is currently nasally projectile vomiting. This mission is _scrubbed_," Sephiroth said again, more forcefully, his patience very nearly shot after fifteen minutes of arguing something that should have been a non-issue.

"I am your superior! You don't get to deny your orders, I don't care what you got away with under Lazard! Times are different, my boy, and you had better--" Heidigger began, and Sephiroth hung up the phone. It had become almost painfully obvious what this was now--it was a power struggle. Heidigger could play whatever games he wanted, but Sephiroth's patience was shot--this was not a game and he wasn't going to get wrapped up in something so petty as appeasing Heidigger's pride, nor was he going to allow Heidigger to set a precedent. He was not risking the safety of his men or himself for Heidigger's power trip.

"...Sir?" a tentative voice asked. He looked up from the phone to see the motion-sick trooper, Strife, hesitantly coming over. "Is everything all right?"

Sephiroth wondered what look he must have on his face to have the boy looking so timid, then brushed it off. Dealing with Heidigger would make anyone short-tempered. "Everything is fine." He gave the trooper a once-over. He looked much better than he had--if nothing else, while he was still a bit pale, he was no longer _green_. "Are you all right now?"

The trooper turned reddish, but nodded. "The doctor gave me some medicine for my stomach, and being on solid ground is helping."

"Good," Sephiroth said, nodding once. "Did the doctor clear you to move around?"

He nodded.

"Then I have a mission for you. You are free to refuse if you're still unwell."

The boy looked surprised, but managed to pull himself up straighter. "I can do it, sir!"

Sephiroth took out his wallet and counted out fifty gil, which he then held out to the trooper, who looked perplexed but took it. "I need a pair of shoes."

--

"I'm sorry, sir, but these were the best I could find," Strife said apologetically. "But at least they're black?" he said hopefully.

Sephiroth stared at the athletic shoes, but pulled them on without a word of complaint, grateful to simply have shoes again. "These are sufficient, and they are temporary. This is fine." He gave the trooper a faint smile. "Although I am aware that training shoes do not exactly match my image."

The boy gave a startled little laugh before he stifled it. "How is Lt. Fair, sir?"

"No longer vomiting from his nostrils."

Strife made a face somewhere between sympathetic and disgusted. "...that's, um, an improvement."

"He did at one point say that felt as if he vomited up his toenails and shat out his eyeballs. The doctor, however, assures me that his toenails and eyeballs are still where they are supposed to be, despite the best efforts of whatever he ingested, thanks to the power of basic anatomy."

The trooper smiled again, looking as if he was trying not to, and Sephiroth wondered how old he was. He was definitely on the lower end of the allowed ages, probably no more than sixteen. He didn't quite understand how someone has young as the trooper--and as young as Fair had been when he joined--could want to join. He'd had no real say in the matter. But then, he had seen ShinRa's PR machine at work, and that had doubtless made their military seem far more romantic than it actually was.

There was a lot of glory to be had, being in the ShinRa military. The problem was that there was a particular lack of honor to go along with it.

"Housing has been arranged for us for two days at the Inn down the street. Lt. Fair will stay here overnight."

"Can I check in on Lt. Fair, sir? We're...kinda friends, maybe, I hope, and..." The trooper trailed off, and Sephiroth re-estimated the trooper's age down a year.

"That's fine, Private," he said. "I'm heading back to the Inn now, after I speak to the doctor."

"Thank you, sir," he said, and saluted. Sephiroth schooled his face to remain the same, instead of smiling at the boy's eagerness. While not as..._active _as Lt. Fair, there was definitely something similar about them.

"Dismissed, Private," he said, and tilted his head towards Fair's door.

--

The next morning, Sephiroth assigned cleaning duty to the three troopers--he and the driver had done an impromptu job, but the truck needed a fresh cleaning, especially after their trip to the town. He was going to check on Lt. Fair and get an assessment from the doctor of when they would be able to leave.

Although, he realized belatedly, perhaps telling the three their duties while they were eating breakfast had not been the best timing.

He had only just finished eating when the proprietress came over to him.

"General Sephiroth?" she asked.

"Yes?" he answered, wondering what she wanted.

"There's a phone call for you."

He frowned. The only person he could think of was the doctor, and a call would indicate a turn for the worse. "Thank you."

She beckoned, and he followed her to the front desk. She handed him the phone and released the hold button.

"Yes, Sephiroth speaking."

"So you're still in Urtharbrun," Heidigger's annoyed voice boomed over the phone.

"How did you get this number?" Sephiroth finally said after a long silence.

"The directory, my dear boy. They allow you to find out information. This is why I am in charge and you are not. Because I know what I'm doing."

Sephiroth said nothing, but narrowed his eyes. The proprietress made a slight noise and stepped back behind the desk.

The silence persisted before Heidigger filled it. "I trust you will be leaving for Nibelheim immediately."

"No," Sephiroth said shortly.

"I see you've mistaken my tone. That was an order. Nibelheim awaits!" Heidigger said, and hung up the phone.

--

Needless to say, Sephiroth did not alter his orders to his troopers--once the truck was clean, they were given the day free, and he went to see about his laundered clothing and boots. It would normally take another day, but he paid for a rush--while he didn't mind wearing only his pants and a pair of sneakers, he did have an unsettled feeling not being able to carry Masamune.

Another thing that bothered him was people's reaction_--_three people had walked into poles or post boxes as he passed them and one crashed her bicycle. He knew that he was unusual looking, but him only having half is uniform available seemed to make the attention he usually garnered change into something strange.

_I have to ask Angeal about--, _he began to think, then shut the line of thought down quickly, angry with himself. _He's dead, I can't ask him anything anymore._

He hadn't allowed himself the luxury of thinking about Angeal's death or Genesis' desertion. They were superfluous thoughts about situations he couldn't change. Something strange and _angry_ flared up in him, an almost alien, unfocused rage. He had no idea what he was angry at or why, only that he _was_. Angry and...something else, something he couldn't put to words--something felt empty inside, in an aching kind of way he wasn't familiar with, a feeling that made him want to sit with his head in his hands and not think at all for a while. Or think for a long time, about the people he would never and could never see again, even though thinking about Angeal or Genesis seemed to make the feelings _worse_.

He walked over to the fountain and sat, trying to make sense of the strange, conflicting emotions. They were the most ridiculous and irrational feelings he'd ever had, that childish rage and that strange, horrible aching pain. Trying to untangle them or make sense of them seemed an impossible task, and so he stared at the fountain in the middle of the square, at the patterns and swirls the oddly white water of the fountain made, until something in him calmed enough for him to think.

He looked at his watch, and was startled to find that almost an hour and a half had passed.

It was well past time for him to check on his lieutenant.

--

"How is he?" he asked the doctor, once the formalities of greetings were done.

The doctor gave him a lopsided smile. "A bit better now. He's keeping down fluids now. He wasn't earlier. Provided the diarrhea slows down as well, he'll be off his IV by the afternoon."

"When will he be well enough to return to Midgar?"

Dr. Dellinger frowned thoughtfully. "He's got a pretty serious case of food poisoning, but his immune system seems to be handling it like a champ. Normally I'd say a week, but he keeps this pace up, in three or four days."

"Excellent," Sephiroth said, nodding faintly.

"You can check in on him, if you like," he said, smiling. "He's told me looking just at the four walls is making him want to climb them, so company may do him good."

Sephiroth chuckled. "He has something of a reputation for not being able to keeps still."

"It seems to be deserved," Dellinger said with a smile, and something about the doctor--his relaxed demeanor--seemed strangely familiar to Sephiroth in a way he couldn't place, that seemed almost soothing. He ignored it, feeling frayed by the odd feeling of warmth. His emotions seemed to have a mind of their own today, closer to the surface than he was used to.

"I'll check on him now, then," he said, wanting to be back to something familiar, and headed into Fair's room.

"Hey!" Lt. Fair said, his pale face lighting up. Then his eyes widened and he grinned. "New look?"

"Yes. I've been told I should relax more, try something new," Sephiroth said, feeling his lips twisting up and an eyebrow raising.

Fair immediately burst out laughing, then winced. "Ow ow OW, oh gods, don't make me laugh," he said, clutching at his stomach. "Shiva, that hurts, wow..."

"My apologies."

"It was worth it. Are you wearing sneakers?!"

"My boots were a casualty of your stomach, lieutenant."

"...Oh yeah," the boy said, and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

"You seem better."

"Loads. The doc says I can come off the IV, now that I'm keeping down water," Fair said with a weak smile, his hand falling away from his stomach. "All I have to do now is--"

He was interrupted by a faint ringing sound. Or rather, something buzzing. Fair reacted, digging into his pants pockets and pulling out his PHS.

"Hello?" the lieutenant said, once he got it open and up to his ear. "Hunh? Who is this? OK, who are yo--OH! Yes, sir! Hold on, sir," he said, and pulled the PHS down, frowning faintly in confusion as he held it out to Sephiroth. "Um...it's for you."

Sephiroth blinked once, then took the PHS. "Yes?"

"Are you in Nibelheim yet?!" Heidigger's voice boomed.

There was a strange cracking noise and Fair let out a pained, "My PHS!"

That was the cracking noise, then--Fair's PHS, which was now most decidedly _broken_.

"My apologies," he said, shaking his head slightly and unclenching his fist. A few small pieces of plastic fell off the phone when he did and clattered on the floor.

He hadn't intended to do that.

"I will see to getting you a replacement once we've returned to Midgar."

"Do you think they'll be able to recover the e-mails on there?" Fair said, looking oddly upset.

"Most likely," Sephiroth said, frowning slightly at the lieutenant's reaction. The PHS was ShinRa property; he shouldn't have had personal mails on there, only mails from other ShinRa personne...

There was that strange, painful feeling in his chest again. "I...I am sorry."

Fair gave him a lopsided smile, but it didn't reach his eyes. "'S'Ok," he said. "I needed to get a new one anyway. They've got some pretty cool new models..." His voice trailed off and he stared at his hands. "Don't worry about it," he said suddenly, and waved a hand in the air. "It's just a phone!" he said, and while Sephiroth wasn't good with people, he did know false cheer when he saw it.

Without thinking about it, he had reached over and patted Fair on the head. "I'll make sure the e-mails are recovered somehow," he said softly, then pulled his hand away quickly and retreated, not understanding why he'd patted the boy on the head or why Fair had looked at him as he had.

There was something wrong with him, and he needed very much to get _away_.

--

By that night, Zack was feeling not only much better, but itching to _move_. He wasn't back at hundred percent, but he'd been in bed too long and hated IVs, so as far as he was concerned, and once the doc cleared him, it was time to _go_.

"You look a lot better," Cloud said when he came in the next morning.

"I feel better. No more pukies, no more running to the latrine every hour, and no more IV," Zack said with a grin.

"That's good. We'll probably head out once you're better. I think the General is ready to gnaw off his own foot to get out," Cloud said, looking around nervously.

"Wait, _Sephiroth_? That guy's, like, a Blizzard!"

Cloud looked more nervous. "Yeah, but ShinRa as been _calling_ him. Someone called at midnight last night."

Zack winced. "Oh, man. Did you see what he did to my PHS?"

Cloud shook his head, wide-eyed.

"He crushed it. I mean, little pieces of plastic were falling off. ShinRa'd called."

Cloud winced.

"Yeah."

There was a moment of silence before Zack thought of something. "Hey, where is Sephiroth, anyway? He came to see me yesterday. I don't think he's nearly as cold as everyone thinks he is."

"I saw him out by the _brunnr_," Cloud said, and Zack blinked.

"Wanna try that again in Standard?" he said, not sure how all those consonants worked like that together.

Cloud immediately turned bright red, and it was awfully cute when he did that. Zack vowed he was gonna make the kid blush every chance he got. Cloud was a good kid but self-conscious, and a little light-hearted embarrassment would do him some good.

"Sorry. It's just, the dialect out here is like back home. Everyone around here calls it the Brunnr, even when they're using Standard."

"No worries, I'm not a big stickler on 109.B," Zack said, rolling his eyes. ShinRa Policy 109.B, stating Visgradian Standard was the only language to be used between ShinRa personnel. "Neither is Sephiroth, by the way. Genesis and Angeal used to slip into Mideelese whenever they had too much to drink or were yelling at each other," he said with a grin.

That made Cloud relax and almost smile. "Really?"

"Yeah. They were funny, too, when they would tear into each other in half-Standard, half-dialect." Zack grinned, shaking his head. "And no one had the guts to go up and try to remind them of 109.B _then_."

Cloud laughed.

"So where _is_ Sephiroth?"

Cloud blushed, but answered completely in Standard. "The fountain. He's been there all day."

"Hunh. Weird. Maybe he wanted to keep away from telephones?"

Cloud made a face. "I don't blame him," he said, and shook his head. "They called _three times _last night, Zack."

Zack let out a low whistle. "Yeah. I'd be staring at a fountain, too," he said and was glad it was Sephiroth dealing with them, not him. Then, "Oh, shit, move, bathroom!" he yelled and took off at a run.

--

Zack grinned when he saw Sephiroth the next afternoon in full uniform, and Cloud jumped to his feet and saluted.

"At ease," he said, and gave Zack a pointed look. Zack belatedly saluted, and Sephiroth shook his head, but Zack recognized that faint smile.

"I can leave here soon, right?" Zack said hopefully.

"Tomorrow."

Zack whooped, then slumped back. He was feeling better, but still pretty shitty. "So...where we headed? Are we going on to Nibelheim? I think I'll be OK..." Zack began, and trailed off abruptly, because sweet Shiva, Sephiroth's _eye_ looked like it had started _twitching_, and Zack suddenly realized how it was that Sephiroth had accidentally completely destroyed Zack's PHS, the way his hands had twitched into a fist.

Poor Cloud was doing his best to make himself look small, and as small as the kid was, if he made himself look any smaller, he was going to disappear. He'd also started to edge himself just slightly behind Zack, and oh yeah, Zack was going to tease the shit out of Cloud for that one later. Never mind if he and Cloud's positions had been switched he would have jumped behind Cloud, pride be damned when Sephiroth was looking like _that_.

"As I stated to Lazard's replacement," Sephiroth said, every word was clipped and short, "We are going back to Midgar. _Not. Nibelheim_," Sephiroth finished, and the look in his eyes dared Zack to argue.

No one had ever said Zack was the brightest bulb in the box...but no one had ever called him the dimmest, either, which was why he just grinned and said, "Works for me."

"We leave for Midgar tomorrow," Sephiroth said, and that was that.

--

_I waited for him, in that crematory power plant._

_And then he didn't come to Nibelheim._

_But that's OK. I found _lots _of things in Nibelheim while I was waiting, after all._

_I _do _believe that Hojo is a fucking madman, but I can work with that--I worked with Hollander, and Hollander was a fucking nutter. Hojo may be a madman, but he's also a fucking genius, based just on what all those notes in the ShinRa Manor said--far beyond Hollander, even I can tell that much. I've always been a quick reader; it just took a few days to go through all of it._

_I can't _wait _to see Sephiroth again._

_We're going to have a _lot _to talk about._

--


	3. Omake! The Problem with Kitties

Title: The Problem with Kitties

Author: joudama

Series: Puppyverse (omake)

AN: Happy b-day, chibirisuchan! :Db

This takes place later in Puppyverse than is out so far, so it's a _touch_ spoiler. You have been warned.

He had never been fond of insubordination. Or rather, of his experiments throwing _tantrums_.

And Hojo could think of no other word for this than that-a bloody tantrum.

"Poke me with any more of your needles today, and you _will_ regret it," Genesis said stiffly, his eyes narrowing sharply into slits. He had gone ramrod straight and had folded his arms angrily, in such a way that it was utterly impossible for Hojo to get at a single vein.

Hojo glared back. "Do stop making a nuisance of yourself," he snapped.

"I will when you stop treating me like a pincushion."

Hojo let out a long-suffering sigh. "Trust a _failure_ such as yourself to not have the vaguest understanding of what I am doing," he said pointedly, and was rewarded by Genesis managing to go even more ramrod straight. Reminded Hojo of his cat, when he was a child, oddly enough. The bloody thing used to get like that every time Hojo got near him. Similar situation, too, oddly enough-the cat hadn't much liked Hojo 'experimenting' on it. So it would go all stiff and bristly like Genesis was, and would often hiss and spit at him. That had led him, in the end, to decided to see if he could 'fix' the cat.

The cat had ended up in pieces, in the end, but Hojo had gotten quite a good look at its brain. Interesting thing, that, a cat's brain. Set him on the path to science, to see what else he could do.

He would have thought it delight symmetry, since he planned to one day soon end Hollander's failed experiment and have G's brain for study, if it weren't for the fact that G's fit of temper was getting _annoying_. He had tests to run, and instead G was yowling and hissing at him.

Well. One way to fix that, he thought, and reached for a needle that _didn't_ need a vein.

Only to find it was gone. Or so he thought, until he felt something hard jab into his thigh. Genesis gave him a sharp little smile, and Hojo felt his legs give out from under him as the sedative hit.

The problem with cats, Hojo thought before he passed out, wasn't just that they had too much attitude.

It was that they had fucking _claws_.


End file.
